Black Eyes
by TheRedScreech
Summary: Who knew meditation could be so dangerous? Rated T for violence and brief language. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Black Eyes

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Meditation has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. As a small child, I sat beside Sensei while he knelt for hours, motionless, on a worn tatami mat and I wondered if he would teach me and my brothers to "have quiet thoughts" as he explained it. Such a joy it was to me when he finally shared the technique with us, although I think I'm the only one who thought so. None of my brothers enjoy meditation as I do, none of them take the time to perfect breathing, heart rate and spiritual transition as I do, and none of them accidentally endanger themselves...as I now realize I've done. In my defense, I had no idea. I should probably talk to Splinter about it later - that is, of course, if there even is a later.

It takes me by surprise which is saying something, considering I pride myself on my attentiveness and alertness, even while I meditate. The heat from the lit candles is gentle and the scent of sandalwood is soothing, and both try to lull my senses but I am immune.

Then, with very little warning, I feel the approach of something...sinister in the Astral Plain. But that is all I feel before it strikes me. There's no way to tell where it hits me because it seems to encompass every limb, nerve and cell of my body all at once. I have my eyes closed but the blackness that washes over me blocks out my very mind, and I stumble sideways as I try to stand.

 _None of that,_ a quiet voice hisses in my ear, and suddenly I can't breathe. My lungs won't obey me. My heart rate spikes as terror grips me but I squash it down.

 _Calm,_ I encourage my whole body. _Be calm._

It does, but I know it's not my doing. Someone else is here. Some _thing_ else is here, and now I'm trapped inside my own mind, inside the blackness I can't escape, and this _thing_ is in my body, controlling it.

 _What are you?_ I demand.

A smile curls my (our?) lips. _I am your worst nightmare, Sage. I have you trapped and now, you're going to help me locate the other one._

 _Other one what? Sage?_

 _Precisely._

 _Fat chance of that! There are no sages here. I don't even know why you called me one. I'm no sage._

 _You mean to tell me that I, the greatest assassin in all the realms, made a mistake?_ His voice was a deadly poison. _You mean to tell me that you are not a master of ninjutsu, that you are not a disciple of that idiot, the Ancient One, that you are not one of the greatest warriors to walk this earth?_

 _As flattering as that is, I kind of have to admit that I'm not a master,_ I reply. _I trained for only a few months under the Ancient One, and I'm pretty sure I'm not one of the greatest warriors._

The smile on our face stretches a centimeter wider. _Then perhaps you know someone who is?_

Master Splinter's face bursts into startling clarity in my mind's eye but I quickly push the image away, encircling the thought with my confidence and strength. No way is this creep going to know about Sensei.

I'm not quick enough. A chuckle escapes my throat. _Ah, so it is the rat I seek. Fitting. Well, Sage, since I'm never one to make mistakes, I think I will keep you with me for a while longer while I dispatch your...comrade?_

 _Father,_ I correct bitterly. Then I wince; I didn't mean to say that.

 _I assume you're adopted,_ the assassin said dryly.

 _I assume he's going to kick your butt,_ I retort.

He does not use my mouth to laugh but I can feel his humourless mirth in his soul (if this malevolent creature even has a soul). _I cannot be beaten for I am a spirit. That is how I found you. The Astral Plain is a dangerous place for the unaware and unprotected. You were wide open, your thoughts and emotions spilling in every direction. I'm surprised one of my brethren didn't find you before me, since this is clearly not your first escapade through spiritual transition. Oh, well,_ he sighs. _More fun for me._

 _You're sick. Sensei's going to know it's not me._ He has to, he has to.

He laughs again. _I hope he knows, young one. I hope he knows that your soul is doomed. Perhaps, then, he will give up._

 _Like shell he will!_ I spit.

 _We will see._

We stand and we finger the katana at our back. The smooth grip does little to comfort me in the face of my piquing terror. I try, I try so hard, to stay calm, but all I can do is sit back and watch as my body saunters from the dojo.

We do not immediately find Master Splinter. Instead, we find Don just exiting the bathroom.

 _There are more of you?!_ Clearly, the parasite didn't know beforehand and so my brother's appearance startles him.

 _DON'T YOU DARE HARM HIM!_ I shout. _DON! DONNIE! RUN!_

Of course, he can't hear me.

"Hey, Leo. How was meditation?" he greets as he turns to me, a smile already forming. Inexplicably, the smile freezes in place the instant our eyes meet. "L-Leo?"

I can see our reflection in his wide, purple-banded eyes. My eyes, no longer navy, are a flat and horrifying black.

We smile, I scream, and we move, unsheathing one of the katana to chop off his head.

Thank kind Fate that Father taught us all ninjutsu: my brother ducks with a shout and swings his bo staff off his back, effectively blocking our second attack. "Master Splinter!" he shrieks. "Something's wrong with Leo!"

We growl and lunge, jabbing toward his stomach, but he manages to block again.

I'm never going to make fun of him for preferring books to training ever again. The strength I know that's behind the strikes is enough to heighten my already-existing panic. It's a miracle that Don's even able to block.

It is not Splinter who arrives first. Raph and Mikey skid around the corner, weapons in their hands.

 _HOW ARE THERE SO MANY OF YOU?!_ Apparently we mutant, ninja turtles are a rarity even among spirits. The assassin is quick to tramp down his alarm, though, and unsheathes the second katana.

"Leo!" Raph rushes in to help Don. "What's wrong with ya?"

"His eyes, Raph!" Don practically screeches. "Look at his eyes!"

Raph glances up and a swear escapes his teeth. "He possessed or somethin'?"

We smile. Geez, I hate that smile. It curls over our face like the Cheshire Cat's from _Alice in Wonderland_ , except it's a thousand times more evil. "Or something," we say, catching his Sai before it can slash our shoulder. "Would you be so kind as to tell me where the rat is?"

"Like shell we're tellin' ya!" Raph shoots back, throwing himself out of the way of our swinging right sword.

Of course, just then, Splinter steps around the corner. To my surprise, he is already armed with his short bow; a small quiver hangs from his waist, and an arrow is already in the string. His usually kind onyx eyes are narrowed with distrust and fear but his tone is smooth as he says, "Unhand my son, spirit."

We straighten from our stance, the katana still in hand. "I will, once I kill you, Sage."

Father blinks at the title but strengthens his resolve and pulls back the string, taking aim. "I warn you, spirit. Let him go."

"You cannot harm me," the spirit simpers. "You will only harm the body I wear." We smile wider. "He calls you father. I wonder if you can hurt your child."

"To save him, I will." If Splinter looses, the arrow will strike me in the heart, although, my skill in catching arrows has gotten better in recent months.

 _Please, Dad,_ I beg. _Just do it. I don't want to hurt you._

My brothers hover on the sidelines, intent and anxious and mercifully too far away for us to hit them.

But apparently not far away enough to avoid us completely. We leap sideways just as Splinter fires, and Mikey – _please, no, not Mikey!_ – is our target. The arrow slams into the wall only a few harmless inches from us. One katana is sheathed and we grab him around the neck with one arm, the second sword pointed at the vital organs in his gut.

Time slows. One second is now an hour as my thoughts burst into a furious race. I briefly wonder if this is how Donnie feels when he's thinking about a problem, that he has all the time in the world with his mind kicked into overdrive. In the course of that single second, a flurry of emotions tears through my soul. I despair. All my training, all my strength and energy, all of it is pointless if I cannot keep my family safe. If my family dies then I am not far behind – I have known this for years, ever since Father made me leader. If danger threatens, I am the one to defend them. I am the one to jump between them and an enemy. I am the one to protect them at the expense of my life. But now, I am the danger. I am the enemy. My life was forfeit the moment the spirit trapped me inside my own mind and overtook my body. I have nothing to give to save them.

I panic. A swift, rushing river of pure terror nearly overwhelms me. I always hated panic because it blocks out everything I need to act and react. Only one thing pushes through my panic, saving me from the flood.

I rage. I seethe and writhe in my dark prison, loathing the very feel of this being. Anger I haven't felt since before my training with the Ancient One (a product of my own self-hatred) burns, and I relish it. For a moment, I wrap myself in it, the arms of an old friend. Oh, how I missed this fire. Oh, how I want to burn him out of me!

I calm. After a decade of training both my mind and body, I have learned to soothe any swelling emotion. Despair, panic and anger will not help me. Focus, Leo! You have been presented with an enemy of the mind, now think of a plan of attack!

I remember a time when my family and I sustained a brutal mental assault during an ordinary meditation session. We watched, horrified, as our home was destroyed, our friends were killed and our enemies joined forces against us. Master Splinter saved us, calling upon our mental strength and ingenuity to combat the threat. However, I cannot count on Father or my brothers to save me. I have to save myself in order to save them. Fate is a cruel and ironic master.

A sudden idea makes me smile. Caged though I am in my mind, it is still _my_ mind and it is untainted by the maliciousness currently operating my body. I smile wider. Any fool can meditate, but it takes a strong will and a stronger mind to perform astral projection, and while I have not been successful in my past attempts, this is not done out of curious practice. This is desperate need. I will not fail this time. After all, any good plan of attack needs a distraction.

The hour returns to the second, and that cruel smirk pulls our mouth. Don and Raph shout as we drag Mikey back a half-step.

"Now that I have your attention," he begins but then he freezes in shock as I materialize out of thin air beside him.

I did it.

"LEO!" my brothers scream but I pay them no heed.

Instead, I move. My katana appear in my hands with a twitch of willpower. As a mental projection, I know that I'm not solid but the spirit doesn't know that (or maybe he does but I'm hoping he doesn't). All I have to do is intimidate him enough to make him let go of Mikey.

It is too easy. He smiles as I jab, and automatically uses the sword to block, effectively freeing my baby brother from certain death. I do not halt my strike, even though I'm not solid, and I wait for my sword to pass through his.

The clang of metal is louder than thunder, and my eyes widen as I stare down at the crossed blades.

This should not be happening.

But it is.

My shock is short-lived.

I disengage and swing at him with all my strength. He blocks frantically and I follow through with a reverse butterfly, snapping out a kick into his unprotected side.

He gasps and, meeting my navy eyes, wheezes, "I knew you were a sage. Physical astral projection is accomplished only by the greatest of the masters."

I growl. "Or one really pissed off turtle whose family you should have left alone!" I kick at his head with extreme prejudice, downing him.

"Hurry, my sons!" Splinter calls. "Follow me!"

"Like shell we're leavin' Leo to fight that!" protests Raph.

"He looks like he's doing okay," Mikey puts in quietly as the spirit barely manages to roll away; my katana bites into the floor, missing his head.

"He must not kill his body!" Splinter urges. "Leonardo is fighting him through intense meditation. We must free his mind! Hurry!"

The spirit rounds on my fleeing family with vengeance. "You and your pests will not escape so easily, Sage," he hisses as he pulls one of the shuriken I have hidden in my belt.

"NO!" I tackle him just as he throws, and the star flies wide, narrowly missing Splinter's shoulder. "Go!" I add in a shout to my family and they obey hurriedly.

I grapple with him, punching his arm to make him drop his katana. I envision a kunai into my hand and slash him across his collarbone.

He shrieks and slams a wicked fist into my jaw, knocking me off him. "You would kill your own body to stop me?" he demands as he scrambles to his feet, picking up his katana and unsheathing the second.

I dazedly gain my feet but I manage to glare at him. "Are you really so surprised?" I quip.

He pauses for a moment, sizing me up, and that smile plays across his (my!) face. "I underestimated you, young Sage," he says at last. "It is a mistake I won't make again."

"Ho!" I laugh. "So you admit to making a mistake, then? Poor, great assassin!"

"Silence!" he shouts, and he lunges at me.

It's so fast that I don't see it coming, but he doesn't use the swords. Instead, he kicks me in the chest and I fly backward. My head slams into the wall. My scream of denial is wordless as blackness swallows me.

I come to only moments later inside my body, no longer projecting, and the sound of clashing steel reverberates through my aching brain. I'm back in the darkness, trapped in some black corner of my mind – no, not trapped. Never trapped. I wake up fully and turn my consciousness towards what's happening, peering out through black eyes.

Raph. My brother is in front of me, his sai out and locked crossways with the katana in our hands. He defends the dojo where I can see Sensei, Don and Mikey kneeling in meditation.

We smile – damn this smug, smirking, body-snatching murderer to the deepest pit of hell! – and we knee him right in the gut. The air rushes out of him and he bends double, giving his opponent a perfect opportunity to slam the pommel of the sword into the back of his unprotected head.

My brother hits the floor with a thud.

I throw myself out of the body, my katana materializing in my hands, and slam the end cap of the left one into the spirit's face.

"Raphael!" I shout but no sound comes out of my mouth. How can I not speak? But I know the answer almost immediately: I'm tiring. The energy I need to sustain my projected, let alone physical, form is draining me. _At least I'm still solid,_ I think grimly as I stand over my unconscious brother and bring both swords up – en guarde.

As blood pours from my body's face, the assassin no longer smiles, his black eyes narrowed to slits behind my blue mask. Now I know I've pissed him off.

"I'm done playing games," he hisses and he charges.

I rise to meet him, keeping him away from Raphael. I block, thrust, parry and jab, thrust and block again. Our swords are silver and blue blurs as we collide with all the force of lions. A low growl that only I can hear builds up in my throat, and I realize he's doing the same. Spirit though he is, he's adapting to my body's muscle-memory which is at the same time a blessing and a curse because it makes him predictable but still formidable.

Aside from the threatening noises in our throats, we're silent. I never was a bantering type during combat, after all. Not that I could right now anyway with my depleting energy reserves.

Suddenly: a punch of a foreign but not unfamiliar presence in my mind. _Leo!_

I start, dropping one of my swords, and lunge to the side to avoid getting impaled. _Bad timing, Mikey!_

My baby brother's voice is loud in my thoughts as he cries, _I found him, I found him! Sensei!_

 _Calmly, Michelangelo,_ Splinter rebukes as he joins the throng in my consciousness. _Your brother cannot focus on projecting his form and fighting the spirit with you shouting. Leonardo, where is Raphael?_

 _He's out cold,_ I reply, gritting my teeth as I parry a swing. I kick at his knee and the satisfactory pop makes me smile grimly. If I survive this, recovery's going to be brutal. I roll to one side, scoop up my dropped katana, and turn back around in time to deflect two shuriken into the ceiling. But now I'm too far from Raph and, sweet heaven, no! The spirit is standing, favouring his right leg, right over him, a katana tip angled at his neck. He smiles at me, black eyes malicious voids.

I don't hear Father's cry of _Donatello, assist your brothers!_ I don't even move – not physically. My projection blinks out of existence only to reappear right behind him and I stab him through the shoulder holding the sword meaning to kill my brother.

He roars in pain (strange that I don't feel it), that sword falls from his hand, and he rips away from me just as Donnie arrives, his bo a brown and purple blur as he swings at his head and makes contact with enough force to give him a concussion.

With the playing field tipped in our favour, we attack in synchronisation and push him back and away from Raph who I can hear groaning as he slowly regains consciousness. The spirit has only one katana, he's bleeding profusely from his shoulder, collarbone and face, and he hobbles on one foot. But he's still standing. He's still fighting and he's still in my body which means we're still in danger.

Despite the agony I know must be pounding through his right arm, he lets fly another round of shuriken. I block effectively but Don cries out as one strikes his leg. A brief glance at my brother costs me: the spirit body-slams me to the side, slices at Don's vulnerable side, and rushes…past us?

Why? What's behind us?

If astral projections had veins, my blood would run cold. Sensei. Mikey. They're completely defenseless as they meditate to free my mind and body of the spirit's control.

 _Almost there, Leo,_ Mikey encourages me, unaware of his immediate danger. _This guy's a stubborn leech._

I don't pay attention to him. I pivot and push off the floor, racing after him. I have to catch him. I cannot fail. He draws his katana back to gore Splinter through the back, my sensei, my father.

I leap at him and tackle him with a shout that echoes off the pipes above us: "DAD!"

Pain lances through my whole body…mind? We lie on the floor in a heap and I push away from him roughly, though that only increases the agony and I hear myself, both of us, cry out.

Then I notice the katana. Standing upright from my chest. And even though I'm the one wounded, red pours from our body, staining the floor.

Splinter warned me once that the mind can make things in meditation real, although I'm surprised the spirit didn't also black out when he kicked me into the wall. Maybe I wasn't deep enough before? I'm too deep now, and now the spirit knows how deep I can go. I smile at him as shouting rings through my ears.

"You've made a terrible mistake," I gasp, and I see blood bubble from my body's mouth. Spirit or not, he cannot operate in a dying body.

"Impossible," he whispers. His black eyes flutter, struggling to stay open.

"This is…what you get when…you target…my family."

"Impossible."

"Keep…telling yourself…that."

"Imposs...ible…"

It's the last thing I hear.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Epilogue

I was right. Recovery was brutal. No, scratch that. Recovery _is_ brutal. Two weeks after the incident, I awoke from my coma to a broken body and a solemn family. They were happy I was awake and healing - Mikey was all for ordering enough pizza to put the nearby joint out of business when I finally opened my eyes - but I could tell the incident shook them.

I forced Don to give me a complete rundown of exactly what I was dealing with and he complied grudgingly: punctured and collapsed left lung, shattered right acromion, torn right supraspinatus tendon, dislocated left knee, fifteen stitches in the gash over my right collarbone, and two consecutive concussions (one caused by my head striking the wall, and the other by Don's bo staff). That explained all the bandages and the constant stream of painkillers. My right shoulder was bound tight to my plastron for seven weeks, and my knee was in a brace (a small mercy it was not a cast) which I still wear when I train.

Now, two months later, I'm once again able to walk and eat solid food, and I'm slowly re-training my body. The going is brutal and slow but no one's complaining, not even Mikey who complains about everything, and I wonder if I make them nervous. It's a ridiculous but constant thought. After all, I did battle a physical being on a spiritual level that no one, not even Splinter, has ever achieved (even though I think it's a fluke and I'll never be able to do it again unless circumstances are just as strenuous and dire). No one really knows what to think of that feat. No one's mentioned it. No one has even spoken of the incident. Forget the fact that I haven't meditated since out of fear that _he_ will find me again. Forget that I barely sleep, seeing black irises behind a blue mask smile at me every time I close my eyes. Forget that I jump at shadows and that I barely eat and talk. Forget that I can't look my family in the eye without thinking about what I let happen because I was stupid and arrogant in my assumed-perfect-but-not skills. They blame me. It's too easy to see it in their faces. I almost killed Raphael. I almost killed Father. I would have killed Donatello and Michelangelo if given the chance. I'm a terrible excuse of a ninja, leader, brother and son. Everything I am and stand for has come to nothing because, frankly, I'm an idiot. I should have been more aware, more careful. I should have asked Sensei if there was anything specific I should do to protect myself while in the vast space of the Astral Plain - or if I should protect myself, period. But I never asked. Because I'm an idiot. And my family almost died by my hand because I'm an idiot.

Training this morning. I still tire easily and I'm not allowed to spar anyone. Splinter makes me work on basic katas to reestablish my balance, flexibility and stamina. I hate it but I don't say anything. I've been doing katas for a week straight now, ever since Don gave me the all-clear to _take it slowly, I mean it, Leo!_ Walking - trudging, limping, stupid knee - into the dojo this morning, though, trailing behind my brothers who have been silent since I walked out of my bedroom, I'm met with semi-darkness, and lit candles and incense.

"Come, my sons," Sensei says quietly, adding to the mystique. "Today we will meditate."

I slam to a halt. I freeze. I balk. I don't think I'm breathing. My heart pounds against my ribs, reminding me that I need to inhale sometime soon but I can't because I. Cannot. Meditate. I will not.

"Leo?" The small voice beside me does nothing to rouse me from my terror. Gentle hands take my shoulders. "Leo? Leo, you need to breathe. Please, please breathe."

I try but everything hurts and my head swims. My vision's blurring.

More hands lower me to the floor, and my lungs are burning, and someone - several someones, my brothers? - are begging me to breathe.

A sudden slap strikes me across the face and I inhale automatically as I gasp in pain - that seriously hurt, Donatello! - but the slap did the job: I'm breathing again. Actually, I'm coughing. I hack on oxygen as it pours into my aching lungs.

"Easy, Leo. Take it easy. Yer okay." Raph? When did he become the comforting one? His arm is around my shoulders, supporting me as my body tries to reject and welcome the air at the same time.

I hate my body. It's as much of an idiot as I am.

Purple-banded, brown eyes settle in front of me. They look black in the darkness and I flinch away with a whimper I can't hold back; Don retreats with hurt, wide eyes. But wait, no, I can see the whites around the irises (my eyes were completely black, whites and all). The brown only _looks_ black. They're not _actually_ black. I relax in Raph's hold.

"Sorry," I whisper.

"It's okay," my brother replies shakily. For a genius, he's a terrible liar.

MIkey chuckles from somewhere but I don't know what's funny. This isn't funny.

Raph squeezes me gently. "Are you okay?" he asks.

I shake my head and say nothing. I don't want to say anything because anything I do say will be pathetic, weak, idiotic, stupid.

A furred hand gently takes my arm and helps me stand, my brothers right beside me to catch me if I stumble.

"Come, Leonardo. There is training to do."

I would sag if Raph wasn't already there. He snags me around the waist in time to keep me upright, and Don speaks: "Master Splinter, he had a panic attack at the sight of _candles_. We can't make him do this. Not now."

Yes. Yes, please, Father. Listen to Doctor Donnie. I hang weakly in Raph's grip, trying to stay on my feet and remembering to breathe, trying to force the memories of the impenetrable darkness of my controlled mind and body from playing behind my eyes.

Black eyes lift to mine for the first time since I woke up (Sensei has been careful about not meeting my eyes) and I recoil. But he steps closer. Oh, Fate, I'm going to die. I'm going to kill them and then he's going to kill me and retreat back into the Astral Plain to hunt down the rest of his targets, the presumed 'sages'. My heart is pounding, my breathing laboured, and I can't look away. Black eyes bore into me, haunt me, smile and laugh at me.

He said it himself that what I did was impossible. Maybe he was right? Maybe I failed? Maybe he is still here, lurking in the recesses of my mind or one of their minds?

"Leonardo?" It could be _his_ voice, disguised as Father's, using his voice and his words and his love, mocking me with it all until he stabs through the chest a second time but through the heart because anywhere else would give opportunity for healing. A punctured heart was certain death. Raph stiffens tangibly as he holds me but I don't focus on him for long when Sensei says, "Leonardo, my son, that is not going to happen."

Wait. What?

"You have been speaking your thoughts aloud. You did not fail, you are not an idiot, you will not harm us, and we will not harm you." He does not give me a chance to speak or react to his words because he continues, "He is _gone_ , Leonardo. You damaged your body to weaken him enough that Michelangelo and I were able to eject his presence from your mind while Donatello and Raphael worked to save you."

 _Almost there, Leo._ I remember Mikey's encouragement but more than that, what I wasn't focused on at the time, I can now remember his intense concentration. Of us all, Mikey hates meditation the most. He can never concentrate enough. He falls asleep more often than not. But I felt that presence as clearly as if he stood beside me: energetic, joyous and strong. Coupled with Splinter's calm ferocity, it is...possible that it's true, that he's really gone. But then, when have I doubted them before? When did I ever doubt Sensei's word? Why would he lie now? Especially since his life and the lives of my brothers depend on it being true?

They never did tell me what happened. I never did ask.

"Are you asking now?"

Apparently, I'm still thinking out loud. I need to stop. Usually I'm not loose-tongued, and here I am spilling all my insecurities and weakness and fears to my entire family. I open my mouth. "Chodai, otosan."

We sit on the worn tatami mat, all of us in a circle instead of Sensei in front of our line. Raph's on my right and Don's on my left with Mikey on his left and Splinter between him and Raph. I'm weak and shaking, and my half lotus is off-center because of my knee but I don't think anyone minds. The candles and incense burn in the middle. It's sandalwood, my favourite scent, and I relax marginally. It's a small step but a step nonetheless on my road to recovery.

And they tell me. And I really am safe, and they really are safe, and he really is gone. Somewhere in the tale, Splinter promises to help me build mental defenses for future sojourns in the Astral Plain, something he should have taught me years ago, and, wait, did he just apologise? Yes, of course, I forgive you, Sensei.

I close my eyes as they continue and I listen. The heat from the lit candles is gentle and the scent of sandalwood is soothing, and both try to lull my senses but I am...(yawn)...immune. I fall asleep on Raph's shoulder and for the first time since I woke up, the black eyes aren't waiting for me. Instead, kind onyx, intelligent brown, strong amber and cheerful blue smile at me.

 **Translations**

chodai - please, give me

otosan - father, dad, daddy.


End file.
